User blog:Pax Orderia/EOTK Chapter One Redraft
After a few considerations, I've finally managed to get back into writing and have so far remodelled the opening chapter of EOTK to reference more so the Stick War 2/Stick Empire elements (up to Samson's introduction). Linking such a story closely to the game is difficult, especially given that the very concept, which I often stress when revealing it to others, is that it is a backstory to a backstory (in this case, The Last Wingidon and Juggerknight's Reminisce), but I hope I managed to make it clearer, as well as the general anarchist theme. Chaos. Destruction. The grass stained red with blood. The statue shattered. The capital of the Great Knights lay in ruins, consumed by the chaos that had befallen their once-mighty nation. Now, the Juggerknights had risen up and taken their place. The knight stood there, wielding a bloodied axe and shield, grinning at the devastation he had caused. He was finally free of the shackles of the old order of the Great Knights; Chaos had freed him. Surveying the beauty of the shattered, burning landscape, he spotted a fallen civilian's futile attempt to escape, steadily dragging themselves across the dry grass. Steadily, he marched up to the civilian, axe reared to deliver the killing blow. But just as he was upon him, rather than using the blade of the axe, he smashed the base of the handle into his helpless victim, caving in the back of his skull. Blood trickled out as he used his axe handle to pummel the civilian's head into pulp. Soon, there was nothing. Nothing but a gruesome mess of blood, bone and brains. *** Vince woke from his nightmare, sweat dripping from his forehead. Cautiously, he stared around the tent. All four of his fellow Great Knights lay asleep in their hastily assembled bunks, all unusually silent. Creak. Vince fixed his gaze upon the shadows of the trees swaying in the moonlight on the thin, flaxen tent exterior. Two figures emerged, their footsteps as quiet as those of a hunter stalking its prey, and headed towards the entrance. He felt the temptation to leap out of his bunk to grab his sword and axe, but felt utterly paralysed. His heart began to pound as the figures engorged in size until they reached the tent’s entrance. “Ah, can’t see in the dark. Is this the right tent?” The face of a grizzled knight poked through and peered into the interior. After his subordinate confirmed his comment, the rather short knight stepped in, clutching a crested helmet under his left arm, and barked an order at the sleeping soldiers, “Wake up men! Your night watch begins in fifteen minutes.” Awoken, Vince’s comrades stirred and groaned, before the knight took a lamp from his officer and marched around the tent, glaring at each of the men. Vince managed to lift himself out and began to stumble outside with his sandals to urinate in a jar. As he did so, he glanced at the radiant full moon, its brightness illuminating the ordered rows of tents. Beyond the stakes surrounding the camp lay a dense expanse of forest, crawling with bizarre creatures apparently native to the North. “This whole land is rather strange,” Vince thought to himself. The entire three thousand-strong detachment was part of a Great Knight expedition to aid their distant allies, the winged denizens of the Eclipse Mountains and the nation of Rovaltinny or "Wings" in the North-West who named themselves the Wingidons. They were particularly strange due to the fact that they had wings - feathery wings akin to those of a bird - which enabled them to fly. Years ago, Great Knight explorers had promised to aid the Wingidons in the case of invasion. Vince smiled to himself as he envisioned the peculiarity of the Wingidons who were delighted by this promise, despite the distance between the two realms being hundreds of kilometres. "They probably won't need us" he muttered to himself. Once Vince was fully prepared for his night watch, he joined his companions. “Good morning Delphius.” Delphius’ lanky form emerged from the dimly-lit tent, grasping a battered axe in one hand and an equally battered shield in his other. “I hate night watch” he grumbled. His eyes were still streaked red and his voice grainy. “We’re nicknamed ‘Juggerknights’ for a reason - we’re supposed to be unstoppable in our attacks, not sitting around in the pitch black trying to stay awake.” Vince rolled his eyes at the annoying portmanteau that several of his companions somehow enjoyed. “If we attack properly of course.” Delphius’ lips raised in a slight smirk before continuing: “I bet you that Pepin the Short just wanted to punish us for fun.” Delphius remarked as looked back at the diminutive Knight in his polished armour that had woken them up only minutes ago. Vince replied “If we were being punished, we would end up like Grifo. As a matter of fact, I’m surprised Grifo hasn't been executed. Some Great Knight commanders would have just dashed his brains out personally after he disobeyed orders or spoke back to them. I know that at least our old general would have..." The two fell silent as they passed the blood-soaked body of Grifo, who was leaning against the wheel he had been tied up to, unconscious. "Is this really needed?" Vince questioned himself. After navigating their way through the near-identical passageways between the tents, Vince and Delphius arrived at the stakes surrounding the statue and several crops of gold. "Greetings friends" someone whispered at them. It was Samson, holding his remarkably reflective axe in one hand and a lamp in the other. Category:Blog posts